


Burning Gold

by LittleRedWolfe (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse of Magical Power, Acting Their Age, Actually oops means Run Duck and Cover, Age Of Consent Is Relative, All Magic Comes With a Price, Animagus Harry Potter, Because This Fandom Needs A Billion And Seven Laughs For What It's Put Me Through, Blatant Misuse of Powerful Magical Skills, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, But Age Of Concent Ranges From 12 to 21, Come Here So I Can Smack You Properly, Emma Watson is From Planet Babe, Everyone Is Clever In Their Own Way, Everyone Lives & Nobody Dies & Everything Will Be Happy!!!!, Friendship is forever, Goblet of Fire AU, Grey Harry Potter, Harry Accidently Volenteers Himself As A Triwizard Chapion, Harry Potter Abandoned by Dursleys, Harry Potter Finally Nuts Up, Harry Potter is King Of Sass, Harry Potter is Sick of Your Bullshit, Harry Potter's Scar Looks Like A Real Lightning Bolt, Harry is Cute When He's Acting All Psycho!, Hermione Is Having Ron's Kids, Hermione With Braces because She Has Dentists For Parents, Hogwarts Fourth Year, I Truely Ship This, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Not Too Gay To Admit That, Inappropriate Behavior, Inappropriate Use of Animagus Powers, Intelligent Harry Potter, Is It Madness?, Magical Makeovers Are Cool, Magical Tattoos, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Model Harry Potter, Modeling, Multi, Neutral Harry Potter, Never a dull moment, Not a Champion Cedric, Now Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age, Now With Semi-Lovegood Harry Potter, Nut Up Or Shut Up, Oops, Pierced Harry Potter, Power Of Seven, Powerful Harry Potter, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Prankster Harry Potter, Sarcastic Harry Potter, Scarred Harry Potter, Semi-Insane Harry Potter, Semi-Sane Harry Potter, Snarky Harry Potter, Sorry Guys He Lives To See Another Year, Spunky Harry Potter, Tattooed Harry Potter, Teen Pregnancy, Teen Years, Teenage Rebellion, The Golden Trio, The Quibbler, The Usual Cast of Hogwarts - Freeform, There is so Much Cussing in Here it Could Make a Sailor Blush like Ron Weasley, This Is Why We CAN Have Nice Things, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Trickster Harry Potter, Triwizard Tournament, Underage In The UK, Wandless and Wordless Magic, Weird Harry Potter, What If People Believed Harry Potter?, Why Did I Write This?, how did that happen?, oh yeah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:50:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4210380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LittleRedWolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages. -Jacques Deval</p>
<p>Harry's summer before fourth year brings forth a lot of change, in him and everyone around him. He heads back with a new attitude, only to find himself in a sticky situation with a deadly tournament, detention with his least favorite teacher for the end of all time, and a prank war that has gone far to out of hand to be stopped. Oh well, at least he's got amazing friends. There really never is a dull moment in the life of out fave three and their companions.</p>
<p>(Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does. If I did own Harry Potter, it probably would not have turned out nearly as awesome, so I suppose you should all be damn grateful I Don't own The Harry Potter Saga. No Money is being made. Entertainment values only. Thank you Dearies! ~ P. G. "Red" Wolfe)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Gold

_**God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages. -Jacques Deval** _

* * *

**Burning Gold By Peter "Red" Graham Wolfe (LittleRedWolfe)  
**

**Chapter One - Down The Rabbit Hole**

**Summer 1994**

**\--**

Harry James Potter frowns, a cup of floral pale pink tea in a crystal teacup halfway to his lips, as he reads and rereads the paper on the table in front of him. He's sitting outside a small café in London with a cheery white umbrella providing shade over his head and table. He looks up at the man across from him, and cheerful greasy sort of man who looks like Snape's blonde twin with a flatter but no less large nose and a grin that takes up half his face, and he talks a calming sip of his dragon lily tea. It is not a muggle drink, but by now the man has grown used to Harry's "strange foreign teas" and odd way of speaking on occasion. They have been working together for the last two, almost three, months by now after all. The man doesn't seem fazed by Harry's blank face, but it is clear that he is brimming with curiosity at how his latest proposal is going to be taken.

"Absolutely not." Harry says, his voice leaving no room for debate. The man opens his mouth in protest, and Harry glares at him. "There is no bloody way I'll agree to this Carson. We agreed when you first approached me that I wouldn't have to take off my clothes for any of the shoots."

Carson Waters pouts in a way that really doesn't suit his face, making him appear vaguely constipated and like he's in pain, and he huffs, throwing himself in a loose limbed sprawl across his chair. "It's only your shirt Potter." he argues in a childishly whiny voice. "A few swimwear shoots would do your career wonders. All I'm asking is for you to pose on a beach in trunks with a few other models. A couple shots with you and they guys. A couple with you and the gals. Show how diverse a bad boy rebel like yourself can be. People go nuts for that sort of thing. That isn't a lot to ask for, now is it kid?"

Harry snorts and rolls the sleeve of his pale grey and black pinstriped dress shirt, displaying a scar on his inner left forearm reading FREAK in jagged pale red pink lettering. "Need I remind you, this isn't the worst of it." he snaps. "I have scars like this all over. I'm not exactly comfortable showing them off."

His manager snorts. "Kid, your scars make you." he says, draping an arm around the raven haired boys shoulders. "People eat your tragic abused past with those horrible relatives up like candy. Why do you think your trial went through so fast? That crazy jagged lightning bolt mess on your forehead is one of your better features to them, because it makes you unique. If we allow everyone to see all the other scars you hid under, then I bet you double your current hourly salary that your fan base will triple."

Harry flushes, jerking his sleeve back down to his wrist. "But-"

"But nothing, Snow White!" Harry glares at the man's use of his hated nickname. His first photographer dubbed him Snow White because of his apparently "flawless porcelain" skin and it stuck. "Think about it. _Charming Rebel Hadrian Evans Bares All?_ We add a little interview with you telling your fans directly about the abuse, confirming all they know about you and your less than wonderful home life. Talk about being the first ever person legally emancipated at fourteen, or at least as close to emancipation as you can get before fifteen or sixteen. Everyone will want to be the one to claim the heart of the wild boy with the horrible past, Hadrian Evans will become famous world wide, and meanwhile Hadrian James Potter can continue his school life in peace. Relative peace. It will be wonderful."

Harry groans, letting his head thunk down on the table.

"Come on kid. Have I ever let you down? I'm always right about this stuff. It's my job." Carson pouts again. "I stuck myself on a line to get them to agree to this shoot. Your horrible hair certainly didn't help matters considering no one by Johna wants to go near that blasted mop you call hair, and they don't exactly like Johna. Please?"

"Ugh!" Harry flops bonelessly back in his chair. "Fine! I'll do the shoot! But only because I know you're going to strong arm me into it anyways, and I'd rather leave with with some of my dignity."

Carson let's out a cheer. "You won't regret this Hadrian!" he gushes.

"I already do." Harry replies, his face deadpan. "I regret every moment of my life since the first day I met you in that supermarket."

Carson pouts. "Oh you don't mean  that kid." At Harry's sigh and shake of the head he grins and perks up. "Okay, goodie! So the shoot is in two hours, so we best get going now."

Harry grabs his black leather messenger bag from the ground beside his chair and waves over their waitress. The red-haired girl flushes and stutters the whole time it takes to pay and tip her, awestruck at having both The Charming Rebel and The Boy Who Lived at her café, and Harry leaves flushing as red as her hair with a to-go cup with a hastily scrawled number and little red hearts filled with his favorite tea, and a box filled with artisan chocolates with different flavored creams ranging from green tea to pumpkin juice.

Carson laughs the entire walk to their car, teasing Harry over his ability to pick up girls despite the fact everyone who knows of his modeling career knows he fancies men, and Harry trips him as he slides into the shiny black car, smirking at his manager's betrayed look.

**\--**

Four days later Harry is sitting in the leaky cauldron, ignoring the whispers and the pointing, waiting for the Weasley's to arrive. The had wanted to come pick him up at his home, but he didn't have the heart to tell them that he'd moved out and had been living on his own for the most part since late June through a letter. Instead he said that he would just meet them at the Leaky Cauldron. He taps his long fingers on the dusty lacquered tabletop, and then digs a purple binder out of his bag and flips to the back.

His more recent photo shoot at the beach went off pretty well, but he hardly recognizes himself. He wonders if they'll recognize him. Three months ago he was a scrawny underfed twerp in broken glasses and baggy clothes, but ever since Carson caught Vernon beating him on tape and helped harry get out of that hell hole, he has transformed like a caterpillar to a butterfly. Those were Carson's words. His manager and his wife, Pam, a stick thin mantis like red haired woman with a prosthetic hand who reminds Harry strongly of Lockheart and Mrs. Weasley at the same time, took to his case with a fiery passion, turning the poor abused misunderstood boy into a sensation and introducing the rebellious mature-for-his-age prankster and model for a popular teen fashion blog called Strawberry to the world at large. His diet and exercise routine has done wonders to combat the abuse of the Dursley's, especially paired with the nutrition and healing potions from a healer in America. They aren't exactly legal in Britain.

The boy in the picture is every bit the rogue he's been painted out to be by the tabloids, whether he's leaning against a rock cliff or laying in the sand, or sitting on the wooden beach tables. He's every bit the minx from his messy just-had-fantastic-sex hair, black as ink, but with a shine of red under the warm light of the sun, to the devil may care smile on his lips, the sun cast perfectly to highlight his angular thin face, high but soft cheekbones, and the jagged mess of scarring on his forehead, peaking out from under his untameable shoulder length hair. His smile is all teeth and mischief, caught half in laughter, with the purple ball of his tongue piercing catching the sun like a gemstone in his mouth. His eyes are rimmed with black eyeliner making them pop behind his oval shaped gold framed glasses, a reason for his other nickname The Emerald Prince. His scars stand out against his bare skin, beautiful in their own right, most pale white, but others angry red against his winter pale skin. His nipples are pierced too, silver hoops matching the spiked hoop in his left eyebrow, and twin studs grace the lobes of both ears, while a loop of gold twists thrice through cartilage of his left ear. The piercings were Carson's idea, along with some tattoos to help out his supposed persona as a trickster, and he paid a great deal of money to keep the piercing and tattoo artist silent and willing to work on an underage teen. Harry, however, is the one who went overboard in the mapping of his life across his skin. His tattoos stand out on his skin like intricate beacons. The entire magical world is etched into his back like the Marauder's map, though the muggles only see a picture of the world like an old treasure map. A Basilisk and a Phoenix fight on his left forearm over the FREAK scar, his newest addition. A red calla lily graces his right collarbone with a majestic black stag resting on the stem, the date of his parent's births and death underneath in golden ink. A golden snitch flies above a white knight chess piece sitting on an old heavy tome with Latin writing with a black broomstick leaning against it and the words _September 01, 1991 - Forever_ , a tribute to his best friends on his right shoulder right above a roaring lion with a hissing silver and green snake for a tail, and a depiction of the Burrow on opposing sides of his right arm. Buckbeak and Hedwig rest on his left hipbone, and a small depiction of Hogwarts sits on his right side. A Grey wolf and a black dog bay at a full October harvest moon on his left ankle.

Now most of his scars and tattoos are covered by his clothes, black jeans that appear to have been painted on, tucked into dark steely leather mid-calf high boots with red flames, and a crimson dress shirt rolled up to his elbows with the top three buttons undone under an open vest in the same dark grey silver as his boots, unlike how they were put on display in the photos of him in nothing but various swim shorts. The scars and tattoos on his arms below his elbows show, as do a few bits of the scars and tattoo on his chest. His hair is brushed and styled as best as he can under a black fedora. His kohl-rimmed emerald eyes are covered under stylish black vision correcting shades.

The hat and shades are not for anonymity, which is a good thing considering it wouldn't have worked anyways. He's already had to shake seven peoples hands and sign twenty three autographs in the two hours he's been sitting here enjoying his tea and reading. It turns out his modeling has spread like wildfire, which makes him wonder if the Weasley's meant to meet him at his new home, a small flat in London owned by a squattish grey haired old woman who seems to always have stuff in her eyes since she's constantly blinking her false purple eyelashes around Harry, and grinning strangely at him with a mouthful of yellowing dentures.

The floo flashes, and out come Ron, Hermione, Aurthur, Fred, and George in a row like soot covered ducks. His best friend has grown exponentially taller, standing at least six or eight inches taller than he is. In comparison to Harry's own five foot four height he seems to tower over Harry, who is rather short for a model, and his hands and feet no longer seem quite as huge or gangly. He's wearing a Chudley Canons t-shirt and artfully torn blue jeans, his hair cut and styled around his grinning face. Hermione is just as wonderful as ever with her hopelessly bushy brunette hair, also a bit taller than Harry, but her teeth are bound in shimmering silver braces that look like they ought to hurt. She's dressed in a pale blue blouse and grey jeans as tight as Harry's. Harry doesn't need to be a genius to realize they are dating.

"Took you long enough." he smirks as they come up to him, barely concealing their shock.

Both flush red as over-ripe tomatoes, mumbling this and that under their breaths, before they both gesture to him. Hermione gives him a truly wicked grin. "You know, I was quite shocked when I found a picture of you in a magazine this summer at my parents office." she says slyly. "Since when are you a model, Harry?"

He looks at the curious faces of the five in front of him, and then grins, scratching the back of his neck softly. "Eh, since about two weeks into vacation." he answers honestly. "I ran into this bloke in the supermarket who decided to loudly declare I could be the most attractive person he'd ever managed if I gave it a try. Needed the job because the Dursley's were not too happy about me threatening to set Sirius on them, the guy followed me home and the rest is kind of history. I suppose you heard all about the trial?"

"We all heard about that, didn't we Gred?" Fred rolls his eyes.

"It was the news of the year in our world, Forge." George rolls his eyes in the opposite direction to his brother's and grins a Cheshire grin.

Harry nods. "Well, Carson, that's my manager Carson Waters, he caught my relatives in the act of beating the crap out of me and helped me set a case against him. It should have taken months, but apparently Carson knows a few legal people who owe him favors, and he called in a few of those favors. It took all of about two weeks, open and closed. Petunia and Vernon are currently in jail, and Dudley is staying with his Aunt Marge until his parents get out in two years, and attending some sort of corrective group for troubled teens and bullies. I'm halfway emancipated and halfway under the care of a foster house run by this batty old lady. It's kind of cool, except I am legally under contract to model for Strawberry until I turn seventeen. Carson's a muggle, but his grandfather was a squib, so he knows a tiny bit about the magical world, so he understands how my magical career will take precedence over my modeling, but I have to spend every other weekend taking Portkeys to London to do my shoots. It's kind of a hassle too, because in the end, though it hasn't ever come to it more than twice, all Carson has to do is mention how he saved me from the Dursleys, and I can't refuse him. He's a manipulative bastard like that."

"But you're happy?" Hermione presses, and it's then he notices how worried they look. "I know you don't exactly like the fame."

He laughs. "Of course I'm happy!" He grins. "I'm living in a house where I can eat and sleep without worrying that I'm going to be beaten within an inch of my life if I let my guard down. I have a well paying job that means I can spoil the crap out of you guys and force you to take any gifts I deem fit, because I have more than enough to share and no one else I'd rather spend it on. I mean, yeah I'll be honest, being a model isn't exactly what I wanted to do with my life, and I am not exactly fond of the fact that I have become famous in the muggle world too, but being told to pose for photographs while various men and women around the world fawn over how apparently gorgeous I am isn't exactly the makings of a hard life, now is it?"

They all laugh in a relived sort of way, and then Ron grins. "I heard you have an offer to model for International Quidditch Gear too." he says it nonchalant and dripping with curiosity at the same time.

"That is true." Ron shouts with glee and pumps his fist in the air. "I'll get free IQG merchandise for me and my friends, which means that I have, in effort to show house unity and respect for Hogwarts, received the latest Quidditch gear for all the house teams, and my first shoot is actually happening after the Quidditch World Cup. I've been invited to the after party, to take pictures with the members of both teams, and stuff like that. It's mostly promo for the IQG shoots which I'll do in Hogsmead on the weeks that are not my Strawberry weeks. It's looking to be exhausting." He pauses, looking at the barely concealed jealousy on their faces. "I got you all invites if you'd like to join us."

He grins at their gasps. He allows them to protest for a few moments before saying. "It's a gift, and I already told you that you have to take my gifts. Sorry guys, you are all meeting famous quidditch players and socialites with me because no doubt Malfoy will be there and I am not facing that twerp on my own. He's probably already heard that Slytherin House has brand new dragon leather Quidditch gear, and he probably doesn't know it is every house, or that I am the IQG rep going to Hogwarts, and he'll be completely insufferable. I'm not being nice by asking you to come, I'm demanding you come so I don't have to deal with that prat on my own."

With that he turns to Fred. "Fred I have no clue what you are trying to put in my mouth, but if you do not find a different victim I will use a taffy charm to lengthen and tie your balls around George's ankles."

The two give him betrayed looks. "He's not Fred, I am!" George grins, and Harry snorts.

"Fred's the more malicious and aggressive of you two." he says. "Also George, you have little squiggles in your eyes that Fred doesn't. You can't fool me guys, I can tell which one of you is Forge and which one is Gred."

"Bloody hell, really?" Ron grabs each of his brothers by the cheeks. "I don't see a difference."

Fred pops something into Ron's agape mouth, and he lets out a wounded noise before his tongue suddenly starts to elongate and turn purple, looking very much like a great slimy python. The twins high five each other and then Harry, who ignores the betrayed squeal Ron gives and the disapproval of Hermione. By the time Ron finally gives up on his struggles his tongue is four feet long. Aurthur shrinks it, and Harry pushes one then the other twin into the floo before Aurthur can chew them out.

"Sorry Ron." He grins, and the ginger mock glares.

"That's alright." He grins. "I'll get them back."

Hermione grins in a particularly vicious way. "You're the son of a marauder, and the godson of two more." No one comments on the lack of mention of his third godfather, though in Arther's case it is because he has no clue what they are talking about. "You'll help, right."

"Now what kind of friend would I be if I didn't?" he grins. "Lets go home."

**\--**

The first of September comes before they know it. The Quidditch World Cup  and after party were pretty damn awesome before the Death Eaters came and someone stole Ron's wand to cast the Dark mark in the sky over their heads, and Ron is still in a cheerful mood because of that and because Harry helped him dye George's hair purple and Fred's hair pink while they slept in retaliation for the ton-tongue toffee incident at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry's left eyebrow is still yellow-blonde because of that, and Ron has a brand new tattoo of a black widow on his left hand that he constantly forgets and gets freaked out by, but it was worth it. For Harry at least, he doesn't think Ron is ever going to help him prank the twins again, and Hermione is not going to suggest he do it again because that was a one time thing.

Harry doesn't sit with his friends on the train due to a migraine that is only aggravated by their noise. They apologized, and he just shrugged them off, and then snuck off to seek refuge in the nearest quiet compartment. The one two down from theirs has only a curious girl in a Ravenclaw uniform with long white blonde hair to her waist, wearing a pair of earrings made up of what appear to be radishes, and a butter beer cork necklace. She has odd dreamy owlish silver blue eyes, and she has her wand tucked over her left ear like harry currently has his over his right. She's reading an upside down paper.

"Can I join you?" He asks. The girl nods, and he grins and lays bonelessly across the bench opposite of her, enjoying the silence for a bit. He closes his eyes and the next thing he knows she's gently shaking him awake and Hogwarts in fast approaching. They should be there within about thirty minutes.

"You have nargles in your hair." She says. He blinks. She does too.

"Is that a bad thing?" he questions groggily sitting up.

"Not always." she says. "Sometimes they bring luck, other times they trick you and steal your things. One can never tell with nargles."

He shrugs, then picks up the discarded paper she had been reading. "If I read it upside down will it be different from right side up?"

"Yes." She scoots off her bench and joins Harry on his side. "Right side up you can read the articles, but upside down it's more of a searching game." she points out several different circled creatures that look like nothing Harry has ever seen before. Nargles appear to be baby fairies, and apparently her necklace keeps them away. They spend the rest of the ride competing over who can find more hidden creatures, and Luna explains to him what a Magizoologist does, because her father is apparently both the magical version of a cryptid hunter and the owner and editor of her strange newspaper. Harry gets off the train with a subscription to the Quibbler, a new friend, and Luna's butter beer cork necklace around his neck.


End file.
